How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 76

Selma was smiling, but there was a cold, glittering pride in her eyes—a sort of hauteur built from wealth and privilege.

Elodie pressed her lips together, her expression cool and distant. She didn't even bother to answer.

How could she possibly greet the woman who'd stabbed her mother in the back and ruined her life with a smile?

Maurice looked annoyed. "When someone older speaks to you, you should at least respond."

Joseph, on the other hand, stayed quiet.

He'd always thought of Elodie as someone who drew clear lines between love and hate. If she ever showed someone her indifference—or worse, her dislike—it was only because they'd earned it.

People like them—Jarrod's so-called friends.

"It's fine, she's always been like this. No harm done." Selma, ever the gracious matriarch, acted as if there was no lingering grudge. "Today's our housewarming party. Would you like to join us?"

Elodie glanced at Jarrod, who stood nearby, his face unreadable.

If not for Jarrod's arrangements, Selma never would have settled back in the country so quickly.

The irony bit at her. After everything Selma had done to her mother, here she was, playing the part of the benevolent elder. To anyone who didn't know better, she could have passed for a kind aunt.

Elodie glanced toward the banquet hall.

People came and went, all movers and shakers from the business world.

Selma had pulled out all the stops—her event was the talk of the night.

Yet in all their years together, Jarrod had never shown Elodie's grandmother or uncle this kind of respect, never given them this sort of grand reception.

Elodie's mind wandered to the other gift box in Jarrod's car—no doubt carefully chosen for Sylvie and her family.

"My dear Elodie's schedule is packed," Esmeralda said, sweeping in with a dramatic roll of her eyes as she linked arms with Elodie. "She doesn't have time to play happy families. We'll leave you to it."

Selma's smile faltered, her brows drawing together in distaste.

Who were these friends Elodie surrounded herself with?

Jarrod gave Esmeralda a quick, inscrutable look.

Sensing his gaze and worried Esmeralda might push things too far, Elodie tugged her gently away.

Maurice and Joseph stared, mouths agape.

Just as they were about to say something, Sylvie waved a hand, brushing it all aside with practiced composure.

She kept her poise, though inwardly she thought their bravado was nothing but empty bluster—a last-ditch attempt to preserve their pride.